Posted in 2018

Till Spring 🌬 vcl©️

It is the time of year again

I hear the autumn call

In the cool brisk north wind

The whispering willows

Do their thing

Dropping leaves that cover

Things that will not be found

Till spring. And the last birds sing.

 

Those birds, they sing of everything

They have seen, soaring near and far

Flying high as they return

From whenst they came

Stealing grain, singing of

The journey home again

Slipping away to warmer climes

Life renewed. On the other side.

Author:

A Wife, Mother, Grandmother with tons of experience in the arena called *Life* I love information, and endeavor to utilize it as practically as possible. I have worked as a Healthcare coordinator, HR Manager for over 26 yrs, and 19 +years as a Property Manager. I have raised 4 children and have 8 grandchildren. I love to write poetry and short stories, cook, explore religious experiences and be in charge of stuff :)

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